


vices under neon lights

by ashes_unbiased



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Choking, Dacryphilia, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Name-Calling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pole Dancing, Possessive Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smoking, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes_unbiased/pseuds/ashes_unbiased
Summary: It’s when George hangs onto the pole with only his ankles and a few fingers mid spin while upside down that steals Dream’s breath from his chest. He arches his back enough to stretch close to Dream, enough to gently caress his stubble covered jaw with the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower. The hundred is taken from his fingers and tucked into the top of George’s boot by dexterous fingers Dream would love to suck on. George’s giggles are just loud enough to be heard over the music and Dream is so gone.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 20
Kudos: 281





	vices under neon lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smologan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smologan/gifts).



> thank you for beta-ing, smologan my beloved <3 
> 
> This is a gift work for 100+ twitter followers, I cannot thank you guys enough for all the support! go follow me on twit, @ashes_unbiased, for more of my writing. 
> 
> Song(s) I looped: 
> 
> All You Wanna Do - Six, Aimie Atkinson  
> Sexy Bitch (feat. Akon) - David Guetta  
> Talk Dirty (feat 2 Chainz) - Jason Derulo  
> Take You Dancing - Jason Derulo

The club’s music echoes out into the street as Dream’s car approaches the doors. The pastel pink glow from the neon covers the luxury cars parked outside in eerie light. As he shifts into park, he lets his head fall back against the leather headrest, taking a moment in the cool AC for himself after a really hectic day. He’d woken up engaged, and gone to work the same, then when he’d gotten back to his Orlando condo, found a note where his fiance should have been. 

_ Dream, _

_ I’m sorry, I know I left without telling you, but I also know that you’ve been lying to me. You never loved me, so I’m going back to Amsterdam. Don’t follow me or try to stop me. _

_ Floris _

Florida at night is different, it bathes itself in neon lights, sin, and alcohol, simply just because it can. Dream steps out of his lime green Hummer, not exactly the most subtle choice for the night, and his shoes connect with the damp pavement, he allows himself his first breath of fresh air in what felt like weeks. It was salty ocean air, the kind that rustles the palm trees on the beach at 4 am and breathes new life into weary travellers looking for solace.

Dream sighs heavily and leans back against his car. He pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and blows a cloud of smoke into the damp air while waiting on his friend. After taking a final drag of his cigarette, he watches a white Lamborghini with red racing stripes roar into the courtyard and park in front of his Hummer. He drops the cigarette butt onto the pavement and grinds it out. 

“Yo, Dream! You made it!” Sapnap’s voice fills Dream’s ears and he looks up to see his best friend climb out of the Lambo, smiling like the cat who got the cream, dressed in a dark maroon leather jacket with fancy stud work on the lapels, a white ‘v’ neck that cuts deep, his military desert scarf, black jeans, and his favorite Timberlands. He’d recently buzzed his hair short in an undercut and kept the top long and curly, frequently tying back his bangs with a white bandana. Dream smiles and saunters up to Sapnap confidently, clapping him on the shoulder. The two had been friends for years, ever since they’d met as kids on fucking Minecraft of all places. They stand outside the club for a while, leaning against the Hummer, talking about everything and nothing at all. It was unusually cool for August in Florida, and they wanted to enjoy it. Maybe it would even storm, then the weather would really match Dream’s mood.

“So, Fundy ended the engagement?” Sapnap asks as he eyes a gaggle of girls in sky high heels and short as sin mini skirts wander past towards the bars down the street.

“Yeah. He’s on a plane to Amsterdam right now. He won’t pick up my phone calls either.”

Sapnap hummed as he took a drag of his own cigarette, expelling a large cloud into the cool night air. “Well, ain’t no rest for the wicked, should we go in?”

The club wasn’t all that special: a basic strip club, seedy leather couches and tables all scattered around the main stages and brightly colored neon signs buzzing softly in their glass cases hung on the curling wallpaper. A woman presses a red stamp into Dream’s skin and when it comes away, the club name  _ VICES _ is temporarily inked onto the back of his hand. While Sapnap pays extra for VIP lounge seats, Dream surveys the club. Scantily clad women and men alike roam through the tables and couches, flitting from booth to booth, checking on their respective clients. Disco lights and spotlights move as someone completes their routine on stage, spinning around the silver pole with grace and elegance. The dancer gets a standing ovation and a practical shower of cash as they kneel on the edge of the main stage, letting Britney Spears close out  _ I Wanna Go  _ over the sound system _.  _ Sapnap slaps Dream on the shoulder as a waitress and himself walk past towards the glass staircase that leads to the VIP lounge.

The inside of the VIP lounge was nice, and thankfully less populated even for this shit hole of a club. As soon as Dream settles down on one of the velvet couches near the bar where Sapnap was grabbing them drinks, he had unwanted attention. Dancers and guests alike wanting to show him a good time, rock his world, probably even pickpocket him. Normally, he would have brushed them off and not acknowledged their presence, but with five of them surrounding him, running their hands through his hair, over his skin, it was hard not to notice them. 

“Hey there baby, that's where you got to,” a voice like warm melted chocolate drips into Dream’s space and he opens his eyes to have a lithe british brunet boy dressed in practically nothing and just enough at the same time slip right into his empty lap. His soft brown eyes are smudged with smoky dark kohl and orange glitter dusts his high cheekbones as it falls off his pretty long lashes every time he blinks those bedroom eyes at Dream. He has a dark choker wrapped around his throat, sitting just above his pulse point. The black knee high platform boots he has on accentuate his calves and thighs beautifully. Dream feels a grin slowly emerge across his lips as he gets the drift and he pulls the mystery boy close and breathes in his scent. He digs his fingers into the flesh of his hips, bruising the creamy flesh underneath the black rhinestone fishnets. “Where the hell’d you get to, pretty boy? Been waiting here for ages…” 

The women surrounding Dream scoff and leave with a flip of their fake blonde hair, obviously put off by his choice. Dream presses the little black choker against the brunet’s neck, his hand practically surrounding the whole thing. 

_ How ballsy he’d been to just sit right down in Dream’s lap like that.  _

Sapnap sets a drink down in front of Dream and chuckles lightly when he sees the predicament his friend has managed to get into. He only watches them for a second before he has his own lap of a pretty brunet boy, and he gasps out _“Karl, baby, slow down...”_ Dream smirks into his brunet’s neck at his friend's words. 

“Okay, you can let me go now cowboy,” the brunet snickers, his hands clenching gently in the hair at the back of Dream’s head. The blond simply ignores the demand and continues to leave wicked bruises on his collar bones though the barely see-through mesh bodycon dress. The brunet hums softly in response, almost lost under the pulsing bass from downstairs. Dream makes sure to pitch his voice low enough to make the gift in his lap shiver, “Thank you for saving me, princess, how about you tell me your name?” The boy gasps at the name and answers after a moment. 

“G-George… Hey, you’re not supposed to t-aaaah,” Dream smiles into his skin as he noses against a super sensitive spot behind his ear that’s barely hidden behind one of the large gold hoops dangling from them. He slides his fingers up his thigh and hooks his middle finger under the hem of the lacy panties he finds underneath the edge of the short skirt that barely covers his ass. Dream chuckles wickedly into George’s ear,  _ “These for me, Georgie, or are you trying to impress some other daddy on your client list?” _ The blush creeping down the column of George’s throat is enough of an answer for Dream.

“If you keep undressing me, I won’t be able to dance for you…” That halts Dream’s hands immediately, and he lets the brunet get out of his lap, body heat leaching into the open air as soon as he leaves. Before he can get too far, Dream grabs his wrist and tugs him down to whisper in his ear. 

“Close the curtains, you’re mine for the rest of the night. Let the rabble wish they were me.” George’s eyes blow wide at the statement, nodding softly and leaning over the velvet couch to pull at the ties on the sheer grey curtains surrounding the dance space and sitting area. George sauntered around to the front of the couches, selecting a track from the laptop on the glass table next to the small stage with a pole. 

“What do I call you, cowboy?” Dream instantly recognizes the chord progression, and shakes his head when the song opens fully.

_ All you wanna do, all you wanna do baby... _

George smirks and hops up onto the pole, spinning around the metal his hands are holding tightly onto. The rhinestones on his tights sparkle as he dances, and Dream can’t take his eyes off him, not even for the sudden cottonmouth he has. George lands on his knees and rolls his hips as he lifts his body off the floor using the hand he still had on the pole. Sapnap, who is looking rightly debauched thanks to the blue eyed boy in his lap, catcalls from the other couch. Dream rolls his eyes and slides a hundred dollar bill out of his money clip and holds it between two fingers tauntingly as George continues to tease from the stage.

“Call me Dream, princess.”

Dream can hear the boy who is perched in Sapnap’s lap telling his friend the types of pole moves George was doing.  _ Fairy Sit, Stag, Pole Climb,  _ and more that simply fascinates Dream as he watches George move to the music. He locks eyes with Dream through his thick lashes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he drags his hands up his body, teasing little glimpses of his bright teal underthings. Dream can’t believe how pretty he looks perched on those sky high heels, holding onto the metal pole in front of him.

_ Touch me, love me, can’t get enough see… _

It’s when George hangs onto the pole with only his ankles and a few fingers mid spin while upside down that steals Dream’s breath from his chest. He arches his back enough to stretch close to Dream, enough to gently caress his stubble covered jaw with the gentleness of a butterfly landing on a flower. The hundred is taken from his fingers and tucked into the top of George’s boot by dexterous fingers Dream would love to suck on. George’s giggles are just loud enough to be heard over the music and Dream is so gone. 

The song starts to end and suddenly Dream’s lap is full of George, rolling his hips, grabbing dirty blond hair, and when Dream tries to put his hands on those hips, George yanks his hair hard, hissing,

“No touching, cowboy. House Rules.” Dream stifles a groan as the fingers in his hair begin to slide down his neck and chest. He doubts he’s ever been harder in his life, especially so when those fingers grip his manhood tight. George chuckles slyly and continues to nip at Dream’s ear while he strokes him. 

“Guess what, Georgie, I don’t like  _ rules. _ ” Dream growls quietly and picks up the brunet bodily, carrying him out of the dance space towards the private rooms. George gasps, wrapping his arms around Dream’s neck as he carries him bridal style down the hall to a chorus of wolf whistles and applause into a room with George’s name embossed on the door in gold letters. It’s lit with black lights and blue neon glow, it makes George’s pale skin glow a supernatural white. Dream kicks the door closed and begins mouthing at George’s neck while he makes for the iron frame bed in the center of the room. When Dream tosses George onto the black bedspread, he bounces lightly and the bed creaks under the weight of them both. He rips the pretty clothes George is wearing to shreds in his rush to expose the brunet, leaving him in only the platform boots and the blue lingerie that was hiding under the bodycon dress. 

George looks up into the hungry gaze of Dream as he kneels on the bed above the brunet and he reaches up, forcefully ripping open the blond’s button up. The clattering of buttons echoes through the room and he licks his teeth, ghosting his fingertips over George’s skin, allowing his green eyes to roam over the pretty boy sprawling and writhing beneath him. As Dream sheds his own ruined shirt, it’s a moment of weakness that drives him to yank the pretty blue panties down George's thighs, exposing him to the open air. Surprise, surprise, he's already hard and leaking precum. 

“Look at you, all ready for me to ruin you. Are you going to let me, princess?”

The look in George’s eyes when he hears the low timbre Dream pumps into his voice is breathtaking. He moans so loud, completely uncaring about the possibility of neighbors or people walking in the halls right outside. 

“God, please fuck me…” George gasps shallowly as Dream begins to open him up on his fingers. The dangerous chuckle that rips from Dream's throat makes a shiver rip through the brunet as he practically folds George in half, settling his calves on beautifully freckled shoulders. 

“What makes you think I’m going to  _ fuck you _ ?” George barely has time to take a breath before it gets torn out of his chest. He’d already been aroused before he danced for the blond and now, the hot tongue on his hole makes him want to scream, it feels so good. Dream groans at the taste and kneels on the floor by the bed, dragging George to the very edge of the mattress. A needy whine leaves his pretty pink lips when he feels two slick fingers slide in where the tongue had been only moments before, freeing Dream’s mouth to leave flowering bite marks on his pretty pale thighs. “C’mon, now, spread your legs for daddy.” He spreads his thighs wide, slipping a third finger next to the first two. He doesn’t even hear the other pop open the lube bottle again.

“D-Dream, please! I’ll be good, I promise. I-” he doesn’t get to finish his plea because suddenly Dream is slamming home in one cruel thrust, making George’s eyes roll back into his skull. His entire body feels like it’s engulfed in fire, even more so where their skin connects. His soft moans have changed into harsh pants peppered with Dream’s name and  _ harder _ and it only spurs Dream on more. And if Dream’s breath catches in his own throat when the brunet grabs his right wrist and maneuvers his hand to settle over the little choker from earlier, and he gasps out a _ “choke me please, daddy”  _ on one of Dream’s thrusts, that’s his business.

Fundy liked to be choked too-- just a little, though, not like this. Not while Dream is behind him on his knees fucking him hard while he forcefully arches George’s back with his right hand over his throat, holding his head back on Dream’s shoulder. The angle must be good, because George’s breathing pitches up to where he’s barely getting air and there are fat tears leaking down his cheeks, the pretty mascara and eyeliner getting ruined in the process. 

“Oh baby, look at you, making a mess just for me,” George’s long lashes flutter when Dream performs fucking black magic with his hips. Somehow finding his sweet spot with each perfect thrust. His cock is turning red with the lack of attention and the grip Dream has on his throat. 

“Just a little more baby, you look so good with my hand on your neck,” the blond growls as he fucks into George harder, enjoying the view of those fat tears slipping down his cheeks, neck and quickly soaking into the dark blue lace wrapped around his chest. 

God, Dream is so gone. When he removes his right hand from the brunet’s neck, chuckling lowly as the ragged gasp of air that rips past his lips incites a wave of goosebumps over the expanse of his body. He presses a wet kiss onto the brunet’s shoulder and he hears the whimper as he slows the roll of his hips to enjoy the moment. The wetness on George’s cheeks doesn’t stop, neither does the whimpering. 

“Dre, so close, harder please… faster…” The blond smirks, hiding how affected this is making him surprisingly well, as he slams hard into George. The brunet’s jaw drops in a silent scream and his entire body shakes. The feeling of George clenching hard around him, and the sight of his pretty fingers clenching in the black bedspread beneath them makes him weak. 

“That’s it baby, let it go, come for me, you’re doing so well.” Throughout the whole ordeal, George managed to keep his platform boots on, and the two of them make quite a picture. George, in only his lace bralette and black platform boots, being held down by the back of his neck and fucked within an inch of his life. The makeup tracks smeared down his cheeks only add to the debauchery. Dream, shimmering under the lights with a light sheen of sweat, eyes dilated so wide, his lust ridden pupils overtook the entirety of the emerald irises. It takes five more thrusts before George comes with a strangled scream onto the bed, Dream following him two minutes later, fucking his cum deep inside the brunet until he’s shaking with aftershocks. 

His hand comes off the back of George’s neck first, pressing gentle kisses into the feverish skin there. When he pulls out, the brunet whimpers at the loss, falling boneless onto the bed without Dream to hold him up. He presses a soothing kiss into the globe of George's ass while he searches for a towel, a reward for being so good. After cleaning his spend off of George, he takes the boots off of George and gathers the Brit into his arms, tucking him beneath a chenille throw after throwing the ruined bedspread onto the floor. George watches him closely with glazed over eyes, and Dream notices. In response, he picks up the blue panties from the floor, tucking them into his jeans pocket with a smirk that makes George’s face flame up. Dream chuckles and sits on the edge of the bed, carding his fingers through chocolate hair. 

“These are mine now, and so are you.” 

“You think I want someone else after that? No one else can make me feel like you do.” George whispers like it’s a secret just for them. 

“Then I’m yours, princess.” The smile that splits George’s face is brighter than the sun in July, and he pulls Dream down into a kiss. 

“Shut up and kiss me properly, idiot.”


End file.
